Title: Of all the Chiropractic Joints in Town…

Author: Lorene Thomas

The rain was coming down in sheets, a vain attempt at washing away the grime of this dirty city. On a clear day from my office window, I could see the docks, filled with corruption, crime, and men who threw cargo onto boats without bending their knees. The door to my office swing open and I swivelled around in my orthopaedic chair. As soon as I saw her, I knew it was gonna be one of those days.

“Hello, Sam,” she breathed between plump red lips that only led to trouble.

“Hello, Trixie,” I replied, cool as a cucumber, despite the humidity brought by the weather and her arrival.

“I’m in trouble, Sammy,” she blurted out. “I need your help.”

Everyone in the city knew the game Trixie played. As the singer and owner of the Candy Club, she saw, knew, or had her hand in ninety-nine percent of the dirty deals that went down in this town. And they didn’t all involve the mob guys. Politicians, cops...hell, even Father McDougall all tripped over the line between good and bad at one time or another. Trixie was a walking little black book of every single lawbreaker, big or small, this town had to offer. It wasn’t hard to figure that kind of knowledge would get her into trouble.

I kept my nose clean, so it was no concern of mine what people did on their own time. Maybe that’s why she thought she could come to me. I never took sides and only did my job, working on the spines and necks of cops and mafia alike. I minded my business, and right now, I was more concerned about her atrocious posture that was only going to lead to back problems down the road. “Come on, Trixie,” I said, tilting my head in the direction of my private room. “I’m gonna straighten you out.”

Her eyes, outlined in bright blue shadow and dark black mascara widened in terror. “No, Sammy! I ain’t ever done nothing to you!”

It took me a second to figure out what the dame was talking about- then it hit me. “Your back, Trixie. I’m gonna straighten out your back.”

“Oh,” she replied, confused but relieved.

It was a standard session- I didn’t do anything for her that I wouldn’t do for any other client, but somewhere in me, I felt it was my responsibility to treat her right. Poor Trixie, caught between a rock and a hard place. No wonder her spine was so outta whack.

When it was all over, she stood at my door and paid me with a smile- it didn’t feel right to take cash. “I feel like a brand new woman,” she beamed, then left a red imprint of her lips on my cheek. “I don’t know how you do it.”

I brushed off her compliment, but left the lipstick on. “Forget about it. It was as plain as the nose on your face. And, the shoes on your feet.” I reached into my pocket to do her one last favour.

She looked at the business card and read it aloud, “Reynolds’ Running Shoes?”

Holding the door open for her, I said, “Trixie, there are 1001 ways this town can chew you up and spit you out. But it’s those high heels that are gonna be the death of you.”

I wasn’t sure my words meant anything until she glanced down at the card again, and I could see the change in her eyes. Nodding slightly, she pressed her luscious lips together in agreement.

“You’re right, Sammy,” she replied. “Thank you.”

I watched her teeter off in those damn heels and hoped it would be the last time I saw them. Eventually, I did see Trixie again, but that’s another story.

-end





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